


The Brightest Witch Of Her Age

by JuweWright



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuweWright/pseuds/JuweWright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Minerva McGonagall one-shots over the years. <br/>Trying to stay strictly canon. <br/>Trying to write them in chronological order.<br/>Character-list will become longer over time. <br/>Open ended for now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bumblebee

Professor McGonagall had not always been a teacher. Although most of the people who knew her nowadays were not able to imagine she had ever been young, she had indeed been a student at Hogwarts. There were still a few relics of that time in her office now and from time to time she picked them up, smiling at the memories. 

In one of the book shelves there was a big volume which contained photographs of her family. They ranged from ancient black and white family pictures I which the parents looked sternly at their three children to shots of class mates drinking Butterbeer at a weekend trip to Hogsmeade.

The pictures of her family did not move. Robert McGonagall had been a priest and not particularly fond of magic. When Isobel Ross had fallen in love with the silent but intelligent man, she had decided to keep her abilities a secret. She had known that at some point he would probably find out, but in the end it was Minerva who caused the biggest family row the McGonagalls had ever seen.

It had been a warm sunny day and she had been playing in the back yard of their cottage. Her father had been sitting on a deck chair, reading the newspaper and smoking his pipe. Isobel had planted a range of flowers that were in full bloom and there were butterflies and bumblebees everywhere. Minerva, six years old at the time, had been watching the insects for a while, when suddenly a thought occurred to her: “I wished the bumblebees were bigger, let’s say the size of a bunny rabbit. They would be so cute and furry and I could cuddle them.”

She had not even finished the thought, when a loud plopping sound could be heard. Minerva stared at what she had achieved by means of imagination and gave a delighted scream. “Daddy, look what I’ve got!”   
Robert McGonagall looked up from his newspaper to see his daughter carrying a huge, fluffy Bumblebee that hummed in a deep voice and looked slightly bewildered out of its multi-facetted eyes.


	2. Balls of Fire

Caithness had always been famous for its glass ware. From an early age Minerva had loved to go down to the factory and watch how the glassblowers crafted the colourful paper weights and other pieces of art. One day, when she was nine years old, one of the men had allowed her to help him make one of these paper weights. He had been very careful, had given her a working apron and heat-resistant gloves and a pair of huge protective goggles. She had felt very mature when she had seen how by her own doing the blob of white hot glass slowly became something else. And then things had gone pear-shaped from one second to the next. 

Of course, she had known she was a sorceress for almost three years and her mother had done everything in her power to help her develop her skills and – even more importantly – to control them so none of the Muggles in town would notice that the reverend’s daughter was a witch. It had been a while since Minerva had made anything happen by accident. The last thing had been at Christmas dinner, when she had turned the turkey on her plate into chicken. Minerva hated turkey. And nobody had noticed except for her father who had turned white as a sheet.

Now whilst looking at the little fiery ball she imagined how awesome it would be if it would just come off the supporting stick and float around the room.

Happily Isobel was not far away and could work a memory charm on the poor glassblower before he could run off to let everyone know he had seen a solid ball of melted glass hover up and down in front of a nine-year old delighted-looking girl.


End file.
